


Sacrifices

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-31
Updated: 2009-05-31
Packaged: 2018-09-03 12:30:14
Rating: Teen & Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8714011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sam deals with Lilith's offer, and reveals a whole lot more than he'd intended.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** It's been nagging at me for a while, and it turned out quite angsty. The ending was kind of rushed, but I hope it's okay anyway!

Sam just didn’t get it. Why was everything all about sacrifice? More precisely, their sacrifice. Did the whole demon community really believe they were lambs waiting for their slaughter? But maybe they had earned that reputation, throwing themselves headfirst at whatever deal came their way.

“You really sure you weren’t tempted to take her up on that deal?” Dean glanced at him, the light from the dashboard giving his face a soft glow. Sam admired the way the light highlighted parts of it, making his lips fuller and giving his eyes an even greener cast. He felt his heart swell just a tiny bit. He was willing to sacrifice everything for his brother; his life, his soul. But he couldn’t sacrifice the thing he loved the most, especially when it wasn’t his to give. He’d thought Lilith’s offer over, until she’d stated exactly what she wanted. He’d have no problem to give himself up. Not only would he save Dean; he’d also save the rest of humanity. But the price she was asking was too steep.

“How could I? She wanted me to give up both our lives! I couldn’t give her that!”

“That’s not so much. Think about it, Sammy. You and me for the rest of the world. Is that really asking for too much?” Dean had a strange look on his face, one Sam couldn’t quite decipher. Conflicted emotions danced across his features, too fast for Sam to keep up. Usually he had no problems reading Dean, but this time he seemed to be in way over his head. But he was almost sure he could detect one emotion: longing. He felt his heart seize as he realized a part of Dean had wanted him to take that offer, to make that deal. It made his breath stop for a second. Somewhere Dean was wishing he could die to end it all. A deep, dark part of him wanted to give up and lay down their weapons. It made him hurt in parts of his soul he hadn’t realized he’d buried. Suddenly he had to get out, to get away.

“Pull over, Dean, please stop the car. I have to get out; I have to get some air!” Dean gaped at him, jaw slack with astonishment, but he automatically obeyed Sam’s request. Probably he responded instinctively to the desperation in Sam’s voice. As soon as the car had stopped at the side of the road Sam was out. Hell, the car hadn’t really stopped before he threw the door open. He stumbled away blindly, wishing the woods would swallow him up. No matter what he did it would go wrong. Dean wanted him to end it all, but that would mean forfeiting their lives. He would give his own life gladly, but he couldn’t let Dean do that. Not again, he’d already done that once. For Sam, to save his little brother’s life. He ran full out now, wanting to leave his thought and feelings behind. Of course it didn’t work. They were trapped in his head, his own personal ghosts that no amount of salt or fire could put to rest. He didn’t know where he was, he didn’t care. He just had to get away.

Finally he just collapsed; letting his body sink to the ground. He tried to draw breath and found he was crying. Detachedly he listened to his own sobs as he cried in a way he couldn’t remember doing before. He was willing to do anything to make Dean stop hurting, and right now it seemed the only way to make him stop hurting was to let him go. In the most permanent ways he could ever let Dean go. He remembered those four months, which felt like an eternity. Waking up, automatically listening for his brother’s breath in the darkness. Hearing only silence. Nothing tasted right, neither food nor drink. All he could taste was dirt and ashes.

He remembered Bobby trying to talk him into burning Dean’s body. How he’d threatened to kill Bobby as he’d cradled his brother’s mangled body, tears streaming down his face. Even that hadn’t hurt as badly as this did. Because now he felt like he could have done something to ease Dean’s pain, only he couldn’t pay that price.

He had no idea how long he’d been sitting there when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Even through the layers of cloth he could feel the calluses, feel the warmth of that familiar shape. Never before had he thought of the millions of small touches they shared, the easy intimacy between them. He responded by automatically leaning into that simple touch, letting the hand caress his face with its knuckles. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness and he could see Dean’s face quite clearly. The worry and concern in his face was palpable as he reached out to help Sam up. He led Sam through the woods in silence, one hand always on his back. It rested there lightly, just below Sam’s right shoulder blade to guide him and support him. For a moment Sam felt guilty. Shouldn’t he be the one supporting Dean, guiding him? But he just couldn’t do it right now. For the first time ever he felt brittle, fragile.

It was quite a bit to walk to the car, and Sam was grateful as it came into view. Dean had pulled further to the side, but the car doors were open. That was a sign of how much he’d freaked Dean out that his brother had left his beloved car unlocked. Sam sank into the passenger side, looking at himself in the rear view mirror. He was a mess. His eyes weren’t just red rimmed, they were totally bloodshot. His nose had run and his hair was tousled. He reached into the glove compartment, grabbing a handful of napkins to try to clean himself up. It didn’t make it much better, but he’d take anything he could get. They drove in silence. Sam wanted to say something, anything, but he didn’t know where to start. Dean didn’t seem to be much better off. He kept stealing glances at Sam, furtive looks filled with worry. Sam had no idea what to say to put him at ease. His mind, usually so quick, was drawing a complete blank. As they pulled over at the next motel he’d still hadn’t found anything to say. So he locked himself in the bathroom, taking a long shower as hot as he could get it.

As he got out, dressed only in a towel, he found Dean sitting at his laptop. He looked up, green eyes meeting hazel. Dean’s hair was sticking up ever which way, a sign of him raking through it in frustration.

“What the hell happened, Sam? What got into you in the car? Why’d you run?” And there it was. No easing into it, no pussy-footing around the subject. Just head on collision, straight to the core. And fuck if he wasn’t tired of breaking, but he was doing it again. Tears loomed again, threatening to flow anew. And he started talking, mouth bypassing his brain, emotions hijacking his logical, analytical mind.

“Is life with me really that bad? Is life itself really that bad? That you wanted me to give it up, to give your life up. Fuck, Dean, how could I give your life up? It’s not mine to give away! I can’t do that to you, can’t force you to do that sacrifice. You’ve given up so much already. You gave your life, your soul, for me. How could I give you up, play the Judas goat and lead you like a lamb to the slaughter? There’s so much to live for, so much you have to give!” 

Dean’s face darkened, eyes growing hooded. “Yeah, like what?” Sam stared at him.

“I’m serious, what do I have to give? I can ace almost any living being in advanced torture, I’m literally hell on wheels when it comes to that. I’m fucking brilliant at being scared, and when it comes to guilt I’m the all-time champion. What I seriously suck at is staying dead, doing the right thing and making it right.”

Sam didn’t no what to retort. Dean looked at him; anguish mixed anger on his face. He had to say something, anything.

“How many lives have you saved? How many times have you saved my life? Doesn’t that count for anything?”

“Sam, I was gone for four months. You did just fine without me. I’m just holding you back now. All you do is worry about me.” And there it was. When Sam thought about it he realized that wasn’t entirely true. Yes, he worried about Dean, but his motives weren’t entirely pure.

“No, that’s not all I do. I worry for me as well! Dean, I don’t know what I’d do without you! I can feel it there constantly, the darkness in me. And it’s always threatening to swallow me, to take me over. It’s tempting to just give in, to answer that siren song. But with you around I can resist. You’re my conscience, the one who keeps me on the path.” He smiled, feeling tears welling again. “You’re my very own Jiminy Cricket. I don’t want to do anything to disappoint you. And you want me to just give your life up? I’d be lost without you. I can’t give your life up, I need you too much. And I don’t want this to end with you dying again. I want it to end right, with us growing old together!”

Dean’s features softened as he looked at Sam. A single tear slid down his cheek, glittering like a pearl in the shine from the laptop. He reached out, stopped himself and then hugged Sam close. Sam buried his face in the crook of Dean’s neck, finally letting himself cry again. Dean hadn’t pushed him away, hadn’t condemned him. He hadn’t acknowledged how long those thoughts had preyed on his mind, how long he’d feared that.

“Please Dean, don’t leave me! I’ll stop using my powers, for real this time, I’ll do whatever it takes, but I can’t stand losing you again.” He held Dean tight, not wanting to show his face. Embarrassed by his outburst, feeling like a little kid. Dean gently untangled him, holding him at arm’s length. He looked gently amused, and maybe a little touched. Neither expression sat quite well on his face; Sam was used to his usual cocky style.

“Am I really that important to you? I mean, we’re brothers, but what you just said… You make it sound like your world revolves around me.” And Sam could detect real insecurity in his elder brother’s voice. How could he be insecure about that? Had he been that unclear?

“Dean, I love you. You’re my world, nothing’s more important than you!” It was cheesy, sappy, a classic chick-flick-moment. But Dean didn’t push him away as he hugged him tight again; he tightened the embrace further. Sam buried his face at Dean’s neck again, breathing in his scent as he hugged him fiercely. Dean made a small sound, part laugh, part sob.

“I love you too Sammy. Can we do this together; can we get our act together?”

“Hey, we’re fucking Winchesters! We can do whatever we want! The rules don’t apply to us.”

At that comment Dean gave him a sort of strange smile. He laid a hand against Sam’s cheek, tilting his face up to look straight in his eyes. There was something in his face, something that was both strangely familiar and completely new. Sam swallowed as he identified part of that look and decided to act on it. He leant forward slightly, capturing Dean’s lips in a kiss. It was chaste, a mere brush of lips against lips. It was new, different, and he reveled in those full lips sliding against his own.

“You’re right; the rules don’t apply to us. But some rules can only be broken by the two of us.” There was a question in his eyes and Sam felt his gut clench. Now at least he was sure what part of that look in Dean’s face was: lust. It should weird him out, should disgust him. It wasn’t the fact that another man lusted after him. Both he and Dean had had male partners before. Whenever a hunt was over they both blew off steam that way; and neither of them were picky like that when it came to playmates. But he’d never thought he’d see Dean as a potential partner. He’d thought about it, fantasized about it, but never thought it would happen.

“Are you sure about this, Dean? We can’t go back once this step is taken. I can’t go back. I don’t think I can return to being just your brother again after this.” Dean flashed him a brilliant grin.

“So you’ve thought about it as well. Thank God it wasn’t just me! And whatever you want, little brother. You’ll lead and I’ll follow.” Now Sam gave a small smile. He should be apprehensive, guilt-ridden and freaked out. But he felt sure, and he felt safe.

“Maybe I’d rather follow and let you lead.” Before Dean had a chance to respond he captured Dean’s mouth again. “Nah, just kidding.” He deepened the kiss, letting his tongue probe lightly against those plush lips. Dean eagerly surrendered, parting his lips to allow him entrance. Sam dove into his heat, devouring him. There was practically no gentleness in the kiss, only an all-consuming hunger. Sam felt like he was trying to climb inside Dean. Dean’s mouth tasted of salty tears and something sweet that was just him. Nothing had ever tasted better.

Dean wrapped his arms tightly around his younger brother, pressing him close. Sam could feel the hard muscles pressed against him. It was shocking and stunning to feel how right this was. Sam felt something he hadn’t even known was missing click into place, like throwing a switch. He was dimly aware of the moans coming from him, and the answering groans from Dean.

Their clothes just seemed to melt off their bodies. Sam laughed as Dean tangled himself in his jeans, and Dean laughed as he pointed out Sam still had his socks on. All urgency had dissipated, and what remained was a mutual eagerness to explore each other fully. Sam found out that Dean writhed helplessly on the bed when he was licked on the back of his knees, and Dean reduced Sam to a trembling wreck by mouthing and licking the crook of his elbow. They were both very sensitive behind the ears, and Dean had an almost fetish for getting his toes sucked. They spent hours making love, both slow and sweet and quick and hot. Dawn was breaking as they lay entangled on the bed, nude bodies closely entwined. Sam was barely conscious, aware only of the warmth of his brother turned lover next to him and his all-consuming satisfaction. He gave a sleepy smile as Dean pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“You do know that this hasn’t really solved anything, right Sammy?” Dean’s voice was low and gravelly, rough with almost-sleep.

“I know that. But it’s given me a damn good reason to make sure to solve it.” He could feel Dean smile.

“You’ve got a point there. Well, the sum of us is better than our parts by themselves.” Sam gave a slow laugh.

“Very deep! But at least you try. And yes, our parts sums up nicely together.” He tried to leer, but the effect was ruined by the huge yawn that slipped him. Dean smiled and pulled him closer, stroking his hair as he fell asleep. No, everything was not okay, but for the first time Sam felt a real glimmer of hope that it might be.


End file.
